Breaking into a fast walk, the fugitives kept straight ahead for another mile, till they came to a dip in the ground. There was the reflection of a fire hanging over the dip, and presently Steve caught sight of a native wigwam of large proportions. His father gave a cry of delight, and in a few seconds they were all inside. A smothered greeting welcomed them, and at once Steve was gripping the many hands held out to him, for there were now seven persons crowded into the wigwam, and a lantern which hung to one of the roof poles shone on their painted faces, and enabled the rescued prisoner to see them. Not that he easily recognised these friends, for they were all heavily daubed with paint and decked out in all the feathers and finery of the Huron Indians. However, he was sure of his father, the huge, raw-boned chief who stood beside him, holding him affectionately by the shoulder, for the voice betrayed him at once. But for that, Steve would have passed him by without recognition, for the Judge had shaved his beard, and now presented a smooth face, than which there was none more noticeable for the power and reserve which it expressed. "You ain't forgot me, Cap'n, I hope," burst in one of the men, painted hideously to represent a fox. "You ain't quite forgot Pete, as took up quarters with yer 'way back thar down by Lake St. George." "Nor me, if ye plaze, Masther Steve, Cap'n, beggin' yer honour's pardon," said someone else, pushing to the front and holding out a huge paw, which was painted now, but which at other times was freckled and tanned to a colour that matched that of an Indian. It was Mac, a grin stretching from ear to ear, clean shaven, and with his brilliant locks cut back to form the conventional scalp lock of the Hurons, and dyed; yes, Mac boasted hair of the blackest jet now, and but for his speech, his huge grin, and his squat, powerful figure, was quite unrecognisable. "You've took the Cap'n aback," cried Jim, pushing Mac aside. "It ain't likely as he'd recognise an old pal in a beauty sich as you air. Why, Mac, you was never so good-lookin' in all yer life before, and ef you'll take a bit of advice from me, why, you'll stick where yer air. Jest take to bein' a brave for the rest of yer natural existence." That brought a still wider grin to the broad face before Steve, a grin which seemed to sever it into two complete portions, and which showed a most excellent set of teeth. "Bad scran to ye now, Huntin' Jim, ef I don't take ye by the neck this instant and scalp ye. 'Tis yerself that's uncommon handsome to-day. Stand up and let the Cap'n see ye."